happy christmas and all that

happy christmas to all our readers and followers, thanks for supporting us throughout the year, it's been another roller-coaster ride and it's not over, so please continue to send us comments or just check in and make sure we are still ok and haven't killed each other!!!!!

olives and oil and puppies

it's over, for another year and i'm relieved......

we had every kind of weather, sometimes all in one day

our wonderful new dog caused a lot of chaos and mayhem, dragging the nets around, dragging other stuff around, stealing Rick's tea, stealing my pruning saw and loppers and gloves and anything he could get his teeth into, his antics also included falling off a terrace backwards (whilst dragging an olive branch) and damaging his retinal nerves which required several trips to the vets

475 kilos of olives

60 litres of oil 

our biggest haul yet

Fredwood

sometimes things happen and you can't fathom out why? often, on an intellectual level, you can understand the cause and effect, or the sequence of events that led to the thing occurring. but, when its something that matters to you emotionally, sometimes then, despite all your best efforts to make sense of it, especially at the time it occurs, it fails to make any sense what-so-ever, and leaves you in a void of emptiness, and loss, sometimes even a loss of faith.

this is the situation we found ourselves in. earlier this year when we lost our dog fred. he died of kidney failure as a result of Leischmania, a viral infection carried by a sand fly (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leischmania). when we arrived here, a few years ago we first heard of the disease, but at that point only a strain of it that affected the skin and eyes of dogs, which if left untreated resulted in death. subsequently we have found there are other strains of the disease that affect dogs, and also humans. 

none of it made any sense. i can't begin to explain the sense of trauma and loss we felt at the time. for 2 weeks we ferried fred back and forth to the vets, in the vain hope that he might pull thru. we thought he deserved every chance. he was an incredibly fit dog, who never showed any fear or pain or suffering, possibly to his detriment, as he only showed symptoms of the disease right before he passed away from it.

a week before, he was leaping up sheer rock faces fox hunting, that's the kind of dog he was. we never imagined he would go like that, what seemed more likely, was that he would be gored by the wild boar he was always hunting and chasing. 

if i had felt my bond strong with stanley, my first dog, who died of the kind of complications that set in in old age, only shortly after we got here, then it was hard to describe the bond i shared with fred. it was stronger, he was so very much my dog. he was the dog i dreamed of,  almost like i had dreamed him into existence, or that he and i had dreamed our relationship into being. we were devoted to each other.

he was so very alive. i have never seen another dog like him. i guess we knew he wouldn't live long, nothing that shines that brightly can. he filled our lives in a way that nothing else did, and the subsequent vacuum his departure caused was nothing other than immense. like being stranded in deep space, unable to breathe, drfting. it has taken me since june to come to terms with it enough that i can bring myself to write something.

not that it was in any way like falling off a bicycle, but the desire to get another dog was very strong. it felt, at the time, like the only way, the only thing to do, that might in some way bring some resolution to our pain. some might say that's a funny reason to get a dog, but it was only perhaps the motivating reason. we had been talking about it, as we always do about other dogs.

there were some criteria for another dog, we wanted another hunt point retrieve dog, one that might afford us the opportunity of working with him. and thats how we found woody. in spain, in a little village not far from the astonishing castle of penafiel (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penafiel_Castle), and the wine caverns of aranda de duero (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aranda_de_Duero)

woody is a deutsch drahthaar  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deutsch_Drahthaar) and he's very funny. he is also very (or wery) wuffly. 

i guess the point i'm trying to make is, you can't have everything, everything has its time, and sometimes just to astonish you, something amazing can show up just when you really need it to.

what autumn means to me

misty mornings

and fantastic sunsets

butterflies on sun warmed rocks

grasses like sparklers

magical birches

old dogs in fine fettle

evening snacks are free and plentiful

seeds with tree potential

and food for birds

lichen that only grows where the air is clean

dappled leafy light

long shadows

and mushrooms

  none of which are edible

strawberry fruits scattered amongst the brown hues

toffee apples for halloween

cake is always available

beans are planted

and new puppies chew everything

what does autumn mean to you?

seasonal productions

'tis that time of year when loads of stuff is ready all at once and produce can't be frozen and dealt with later, it needs dealing with now.......with careful planning and liaising with other half, i don't get to spend all day cooped up at home tied to the cooker, but just enough time to feel like i've achieved something signifcant and nothing has gone to waste. Obviously all this happens in between wifely duties and brush cutting our entire farm, painting weather board and twisting my ankle

The grapes have been ready off and on for a while so everyday I have been making at least 6 if not more bottles of grape juice. This year I have more white than red, the white also seem to be ready before the red, so I've made about 48 litres of white and only 12 of red so far.

It will be a long process as all the grapes on the farm are ready at different times, which is very helpful of them actually, cos I don't want to make 50 litres of juice all at once.. 

The black figs are ready now too, 

so I've been making fig marmalade again (Marmellata di Fichi), it is well worth making at least 6 jars a year, I picked about a kilo and half of figs and made four medium sized jars,

I also used my own lemons this year which is fantastic

Pingo de mel or drop of honey (green figs) 

are ready when they produce what looks like a drop of honey from their tip, hence the name...they rarely make it back to the kitchen as they are my favourite and luckily we have two highly productive trees, but if they do make it back I make figs preserved in lemon syrup to have later on in the year either wih meats, cheeses or they can be turned into numerous puddings.........

in the winter of 2011 with the help of a friend I pruned our fig trees so last year they didn't produce, this year they are, next year am hoping even more, and now the figs are accessible........

Then there's all the apples and quinces

all put togther with some other hedgrow fruits and a touch of piri piri should make a very acceptable jelly for cold winter nights and christmas hampers

and lastly my favourite, chilli jam

pudding boy

I was bought up in the late sixties/seventies when pudding was a piece of fruit or plain yogurt with wheatgerm and honey and very very occasionally my dad would ask for either a treacle tart or a lemon meringue pie and I do remember the occasional home-made trifle but these were very rare occasions, and the tarts were never home-made, my mum had a fear of baking and still does to an extent, which she passed on to me. 

I was led to believe that it was all a bit special and that you needed special things to do it and that it was difficult and a faff.........well you do and it is, but as I have discovered in my 17 years of marriage to "pudding boy" it does get easier and I've found that I can whip up a sponge in no time, bake a cake using two bits of wood and turn out some pretty impressive desserts from the kitchen from hell and the condemable oven, all it really takes is passion and a desire to make someone happy (and some homegrown, fresh ingredients), just to see the look on their face when you show them what you have done and then to listen to them enjoy it and be soooo grateful. The only problem is, that as any good chef knows you have to taste the stuff you are making, you know, for quality control purposes and improvements/modifications, and since I got back four weeks ago, I've cooked all this and more......and am getting FAT

Pear and almond tart

 served with a dollop of maple syrup and greek yogurt

Lemon surprise 

and there's the surprise, lemony custard underneath a very delicate sponge

chocolate covered lemon drizzle cake, tasting remarkably like a lemon jaffa cake

and the last of the summer puddings